Return of the Crow
by Bingalicious Midnight
Summary: Crow survived his fall, and he is now alone in Aenir. Tal and Milla are learning to exist in their new positions. And some strange things are beginning to happen...


Disclaimer: No, I don't own this. But you never would have guessed.

RETURN OF THE CROW

Selski

Even as he held on to Sharrakor, Crow knew he wouldn't die from the caveroach poison. That's why he'd done this. It had been a plan, a good plan. For when he'd first started getting the venom, maybe a year ago, a tiny bit had touched his skin, and he'd been sick for a week. But he'd gotten over it, and the next time some accidentally got him, his reaction hadn't been nearly as bad. Later he'd decided it would be useful to build up an immunity to caveroach poison, and he'd exposed himself to small amounts and dealt with the annoying illness until the poison no longer bothered him.

Now, more was touching him than ever before, but he was sure he would live and getting sick again would be worth being rid of Sharrakor once and for all. And before he passed out he should be able to tell Tal and Milla that he wasn't going to die, so they wouldn't leave him in Aenir, for he wasn't entirely sure how to get back.

All of this ran through his mind as he clutched onto Sharrakor, trying to touch him with as much of the deadly poison as was possible. The Spiritshadow was trying to brush it off, but he was only spreading it around, and Crow knew he'd done his work.

He'd been just about to let go and pass out in victory when Sharrakor fell.

The fall itself seemed to take forever, and he tried in what must have been slow motion to grab at the edge of the stone pedestal, but he was clumsy and weak with the caveroach poison, and he missed.

Then everything went black.

He woke up and the first thing that registered in his mind was the pain. His entire body felt like on huge, throbbing mass. He'd never felt anything like this before. But he had to get up before something happened. What, he didn't know. Crow blacked out again.

He flitted back and forth between consciousness. He had no idea how much time was passing. All he knew was that everything hurt.

He awoke once more. He retched, and probably would have thrown up if his stomach hadn't been emptied of its contents in a hallway in the Castle, chasing after Tal and Milla so long ago.

But not so long ago. Yesterday? Or the day before? He struggled to piece together what had happened. It was like a blur. A large, painful blur. The last thing he could really remember was grabbing hold of Sharrakor and falling.

He opened his eyes slowly. The edge of the whirlwind wasn't too far away. It was a miracle he hadn't been sucked into it. But that seemed to be the only luck he had. The pain in his leg was just awful, and his arm and his ribs throbbed almost unbearably. He looked down at himself just to see what the damage was and realized with disgust he was still latched onto the dead Sharrakor. Or laying on him, rather. He guessed that the Spiritshadow had broken his fall for the most part, though one leg, the one that hurt, and one arm had been trapped beneath him. Him? Crow wondered vaguely. Or it?

He was aware that this didn't matter, but his tired mind didn't care. He wondered what had happened to his body in the Dark World. Was it injured like he was here? That didn't make sense, but hadn't Tal been injured in Aenir and felt the effects of it back home? He didn't know anymore.

But what he did know was that he would have to move, at least out from under the dead Spiritshadow. He did his best to roll, so he would land next to Sharrakor. It had seemed like it would be simple enough, but his side exploded in agony as he landed on it, and he passed out again.

Emperor Tal Graile-Rerem wasn't entirely sure what to do with his day. There had been no real Emperor or Empress to set an example, unless he really wanted to try for the best out of a hundred in Beastmaker tournament with his now non-existent Light Vizier.

There were still some renegade Chosen and confused or angry Underfolk, but a group his people (his people! It still sounded so strange, even in his thoughts) had gone to deal with the latest problem. They'd been headed by his father, who had very specifically told him he wasn't needed. And he probably wasn't. None of the renegades were particularly powerful, so they could be handled by a group of Chosen of less than the Violet order, and anyway, it wasn't something they needed to risk their new Emperor to accomplish.

At least, that's what Rerem had told Tal.

And now the young Emperor couldn't believe he was actually bored. He'd just been working with Milla's Violet wave, and he was fairly sure it would subside into nothing now. In any case, there was nothing more that could be done at the moment. No wonder the Empress had resorted to playing games with the Light Vizier. Tal was bored after three days and she'd been Empress for Dark knew how many years.

Out of pure impulse, he decided to visit the Infirmary. He'd been there a lot when his father was still recuperating, and now he just wanted to check on the others. And Crow.

He knew the Freefolk boy must be dead. There was no way he could have survived the caveroach venom and the fall. But they still had his body. It was alive, anyway, and even if Crow's mind was dead in Aenir it would live a little longer. So as long as there was still hope, Tal had ordered that they not bury him or put him in the Mausoleum just yet.

Maybe it was stupid, but Tal had been sure that Crow was dead before, and he'd come back. So could there be a chance? He didn't know.

And it wasn't as if he could be found the next time all the Chosen went to Aenir. Because there would be no next time. There was no need for Spiritshadows, and therefore no need to go to Aenir.

Maybe it was stupid to keep hoping for Crow.

But he repressed these thoughts and tried to look at least slightly regal. Ebbitt's words of 'Do something Imperial!' echoed through his mind and he smiled slightly. Well, there was someone else he'd thought was dead who had come back. Twice, actually. And if anyone else could return from possible death, it was Crow.

Crow came back to consciousness not long after passing out again. Now he was laying on his back, his arm and leg still trapped beneath the dead Sharrakor. He remembered telling Tal not too long ago that he'd never killed anyone before.

Well, today's my big day. Today? When was that? How long have I been out? It struck him as ironic that it was he, Crow, Freefolk boy, who had in the end killed the beast. He'd been expecting it to be Tal, or at least Milla, or Malen. Well, anyone but him, really. Strange how life worked that way.

He had to get him arm and his leg out from under Sharrakor, but every slight movement was so painful he could barely stay conscious. He worked on his arm first, because it seemed to be the least injured of the two limbs. He pulled it out carefully, his ribs complaining the whole time. How many of them had he broken?

When he finally got his arm out, he examined it carefully. It didn't seem to be broken, but, Dark take it, it hurt like a hundred Red Rays of Destruction and had been cut deeply on something. How much blood had he lost? This was not good. He had no idea how to get out of this.

What would happen if he stayed here? He didn't think he needed food in Aenir, but surely he couldn't wait forever. What would happen if is body died on the Dark World? Would he die here? Or would he come back from Aenir to find himself trapped forever with no body?

He grimaced. Time enough to deal with that later. He carefully slid his leg out from under Sharrakor. It was easy to see how badly damaged it was. The bone had splintered and stuck out of the skin and his foot was twisted at an impossible angle. He was nearly sick again, but forced himself to wait for the dots to stop dancing in front of his eyes and the pain to subside. He might have lost consciousness again. He wasn't sure.

When he could finally think straight again he looked around. He had to get out of here. He had no idea how, yet, because the whirlwind still spun ferociously and even if there had been a clear path out, he hurt to much to move, forget walk away. And he was all alone.

He winced and blinked to clear his head. That couldn't be right. He hadn't been all alone before. He'd been lying next to the dead Sharrakor.

So where was the Spiritshadow now?

Milla may have been the War-Cheif of the Icecarls, but she still worked as hard as any of them. Some might have been content to lay around and wait for the others to do things, but Milla had insisted that she also take a watch. So she was now squinting through her bone mask across the vast expanse of ice, watching the selski.

This hadn't been such an important job, before, when everyone knew the patterns of the selski migration, and this had just been to make sure that no rogue selski came towards the ship.

But now, with the change in temperature and the melting of the ice, there had to constantly be Icecarls watching to see if they changed direction or if the ice began to melt of splinter. It had been a hard lesson learned in some ships, when the selski had crossed a patch of ice that had once been considered completely safe and broken through, taking most of the other selski with them, and sometimes the Ice ship that followed.

Though she would never admit it, Milla was tired. She couldn't help but miss life in the Castle, hectic as it had been when she was there. But she was an Icecarl--the War-Chief of Icecarls--and she was above such petty desires.

Still, she almost had to fight the urge to yawn. Almost.

Then a selki popped into existence. Just appeared out of nowhere a little to the side of the others, then joined them in a few of its walloping bounds.

Milla jerked upright. Had she just fallen asleep? It was disgraceful! Impossible! But less impossible than a huge selski appearing out of nowhere!

Or was it? Milla had see strange things, Shadows doing what she knew should be impossible. But that hadn't been a shadow, had it? It was hard to tell, as all the selski looked huge and dark against the ice.

But this was stupid. There were no shadows in the Dark World anymore. The Veil made sure of that, now that Chosen couldn't go to Aenir and bring back anything they wanted.

But could Milla really have fallen asleep and dreamed of selski?

Maybe a year ago she would have thought of giving herself to the Ice for something like this. Falling asleep in the middle of a watch! It was unbelievable. But now she knew better. If the selski had, in fact, been a Spiritshadow, it would be her duty to contact Tal and find out if anything strange was happening in the Castle.

But now it was her duty to finish the watch. She stared at the selski. None of them looked any different. Had one of that huge herd just appeared out of nowhere?

And she'd thought her troubles would be over when Sharrakor was defeated.

Adras and Odris wandered for a day or so after the whirlwind spit them out. They had nowhere to go. Hrigga Hill would probably just try to eat them, and they'd never known any other part of Aenir. And while it was wonderful to be reunited with Odris, Adras missed Tal and was bored. Had life really been this dull before the humans had come?

He wondered what was going on in the Dark World. Wasn't Tal Emperor now or something? But the stupid Veil was still up and Adras couldn't follow anything or anyone to Tal's world.

"Odris," he said.

"Yes?" She looked down at him from where she was flying around the treetops.

"I'm bored," Adras complained loudly. "and I miss Tal."

"I know!" Odris exclaimed, drifting down. "We should go back to Old Khamsoul and ask _it_ what's happening with Milla and Tal."

"Go where?" Adras boomed. The name Old Khamsoul sounded familiar, but for some reason he just couldn't place it.

"Back to the whirlwind," Odris clarified. "I mean, it should let us in now that it's empty."

Adras shrugged. "Sure, why not."

You like? Review please, it's my first Seventh Tower fanfic!


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